


Coffeehouse Angel

by ohdarlingnicole



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Danny is a cardiologist., F/M, Mindy owns a coffee shop.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdarlingnicole/pseuds/ohdarlingnicole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mindy Lahiri didn’t want much in life. Yeah, it would be totally awesome if she was a celebrity and everyone knew her name and Michael Fassbender thought she was hot, true, but she didn’t want much.</p><p>She wanted enough money to make sure she could live comfortably in her apartment and still keep the shop open.</p><p>She wanted Taylor Swift to find long, lasting love.</p><p>And she wanted the name of the man who came in every morning, ordered the same thing—“coffee, regular”—and always put his change in the tip jar.</p><p>AU: Mindy owns a coffee shop that Danny frequents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mindy Lahiri didn’t want much in life. Yeah, it would be totally awesome if she was a celebrity and everyone knew her name and Michael Fassbender thought she was hot, true, but she didn’t want much. 

She wanted enough money to make sure she could live comfortably in her apartment and still keep the shop open.

She wanted Taylor Swift to find long, lasting love.

And she wanted the name of the man who came in every morning, ordered the same thing—“coffee, regular”—and always put his change in the tip jar.

They had snippets of conversations sometimes, and she had to admit, she found him very attractive. That didn’t really matter though; she saw the ring on his left hand. She just wanted a name, a name to put to the strong jawline and nice smile.

 

\--

 

She had his order ready as soon as he walked through the door that morning. He was the first customer—he always was—so he just came up to the counter.

"There you are," she said with a chipper smile.

"How can you be so happy? It’s five thirty in the morning." He asked as he pulled out a five and handed it to her.

"Well, it would be pretty stupid to own a coffee shop if I wasn’t a morning person, right?" 

"I suppose."

"That would be like if the Kardashians hated the paparazzi. Then why would they have a show depicting every aspects of their fascinating lives?"

"Sure," he said with a kind smile that told her he had no idea what she was talking about. 

"Right, um," she cleared her throat and handed him his change, which he immediately put in the tip jar, as always. "Enjoy."

He took his coffee with one last smile and turned. He was nearly at the door when he turned back. “You know, I always thought they were kind of stupid.”

"Who? The Kardashians?" He nodded. "They’re geniuses."

"Geniuses?"

"Oh, hell yeah. They’re making millions, just by living. And the whole world is falling for it. Pure brilliance.”

He thought about it. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” He took a sip. “Damn. That’s good coffee.” She beamed.

Suddenly, his phone went off. He rummaged through his pocket and pressed the device to his ear. “Danny Castellano.” He shot her a glance as he pushed the door open and left the shop.

Danny. Danny Castellano. Now, she had a name.

 

\--

 

The first time she had the guts to call him “Danny”, though, was a week later. He came in and ordered, but he looked a little frazzled. He still smiled at her, but he kept checking his phone, like he was waiting on something important.

Mindy glanced at him. His shirt was untucked and his hair was ruffled, and not in an intentional, sexy-bedhead-look kind of way. In a I-am-barely-functioning-right-now kind of way.

When he pulled out his wallet, she shook her head. “On the house.”

“Oh, no, I can’t—”

“Danny, it’s fine.”

He looked at her, surprised, as she hoped her blush wasn’t that noticeable. “Thank you…?” He trailed off, looking sheepish.

“Mindy.”

“Mindy. That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

They looked at each other for a moment longer, and then his phone went off. “Shit,” he hissed when he saw the screen. “Sorry,” he said quickly. Mindy had to laugh. No need to apologize for profanity around her.

“Um, thank you for the coffee, Mindy.”

“You’re welcome, Danny.”

She watched as he walked out of the shop and she didn’t stop thinking about the way he smiled when he said her name.

 

\--

 

He came in more after that. He would come in the afternoons, he never stayed long, Mindy guessed he had a pretty demanding job, but sometimes, when things were slow, they would talk; small, meaningless conversations about the Kardashians or whether or not Beyoncé and Jay-Z were actually going to break up—“They are not!” “I saw it on the Internet!” “Oh, my _God_ , Danny,”—or the fact that Starbucks was taking over the world. 

“Yeah, my dad was furious when they exploded.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he opened this place.”

“Family business, huh?”

“Yeah. After he retired, I took over.”

“That’s cool.”

“I like it. People look at you like you’re an angel when you give them coffee. I don’t know, it makes me feel powerful. Like Michelle Obama or Oprah.”

He laughed.

 

\--

 

On days he didn’t come in—that didn’t happen often, but it happened—she would look at the door all day and her shoulders would sag when it was closing time and he still hadn’t shown. 

“You’ve got it bad,” Gwen, her best friend and fellow barista, commented one day as they were closing up.

“What?”

“That guy that’s always in here. You’ve got it bad.”

“I have no idea what you’re taking about.”

“You know, the guy. Short hair, intense eyes, looks like he would be great in a grizzly cop movie. What’s his name? David…Dylan…Darren…?”

“Danny,” Mindy blurted out. _Oh, fuck._

Gwen looked at her and smirked.

“It’s not going anywhere. He’s married.”

“All I know is, on days that he doesn’t come in, you mope. You don’t talk about the fact that Jennifer Aniston is so much better than Justin Theroux, you don’t smile at the customers, and you’re always telling me, ‘Gwen, make sure to smile because if you don’t smile, they’ll think you’re mean and then they won’t come back here and then, we’ll lose customers and if we lose customers, we lose money and if we lose money, the shop closes, and then, we’ll both be unemployed and we’ll have to become prostitutes and you and I both know that we don’t have enough Julia Roberts in us to pull that off—‘.”

“Okay! I get it. Can we just…drop it? Please.”

“Alright, alright,” Gwen put her hands up in mock surrender and went back to wiping off the tables.

Mindy sighed and stacked cups behind the counter. _I do not act like that when I don’t see him. It’s fine when he doesn’t come in. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. He’s_ married _. We’re friends. Men and women can be friends, right? Yeah, sure._ When Harry Met Sally _was just a movie. An excellent movie. Gwen’s delusional. Completely delusional. And so what if I’m a little bummed if he doesn’t come in? He’s a customer. And he’s fun to talk to for five seconds. We’re friends._

“Can I just say something, though?” Gwen asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“He’s the same way.”

“What?”

“He’s the same way. When you weren’t here a few days ago, I was at the counter with Mags and he came in with this British guy and he asked where you were and I told him that you took the day off and he got a crinkle in his forehead and he frowned. I told him you would be back the next day—and you were—but, all he did was nod and he and his friend got their coffee and left. Mags and I didn’t tell you because you seemed pretty stressed out when you came in the next day.”

Mindy stared.

Gwen walked to the back to get her stuff and waited as Mindy did last minute checks on everything.

When Gwen left, Mindy locked up and headed up the stairs to her apartment. It was small, but it was hers.

She sighed and went straight to bed, not even thinking about Danny Castellano and his intense eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends!
> 
> This is my first attempt at an alternate universe, so let's see how it goes. (That being said, reviews and suggestions would be awesome and I would love you forever.)
> 
> Uhm, this idea just came to me a couple weeks ago and I was like, "I'm going to write that," so.
> 
> The title is a nod to Suzanne Selfors novel of the same name. It was the only thing I could think of and it really fits, so I don't think she'll mind.
> 
> I have more work on my tumblr. Check it out.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time she saw him, he had bags under his eyes.

“Oh, my God,” she said as soon as he was close enough.

“What?” he looked around, alarmed.

“You look like you haven’t slept in days, Danny.”

He laughed shortly. “The perks of just getting off a thirty-six hour shift.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m a doctor,” he explained. “I got stuck with all the newbie residents.”

“That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.” He let out a deep sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “So, the usual?” he said, quirking up that ever-charming half smile.

“I don’t know if I should give you coffee, Doc. Personally, I think you should go home and sleep for a month and a half. I know from experience that beauty rest is important for the soul and you, my friend, are looking a little bit like McConaughey in _Dallas Buyers Club_ , if I do say so myself.” Danny gave her the look—the I-have-no-idea-what-on-Earth-you’re-talking-about-but-I’m-a-polite-person-so-I’ll-keep-my-mouth-shut look—and Mindy continued. “And you know, I feel like if I give you caffeine, it’ll become a crush and then you’ll get addicted and then you’ll get disbarred, or whatever, and then your whole life will go to shit and then you’ll try to get your life together and go to rehab, because you will _not_ let an addiction run your life, but then, the pressure will get to you and you’ll cave once you get out of rehab and then you’ll die.” She took a deep breath. “And I just can’t have that shit hanging over me.”

“Knowing that you’re responsible for my death would be too much for you, huh?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

Danny laughed then. A true laugh. One that left a smile on his face that reached all the way up to his eyes. Mindy had to lock her knees to make sure they didn’t give out on her.

“So,” he said once he relaxed again. “If you won’t give me coffee, what will you give me?”

“Cold milk and a croissant.”

“Cold milk and a croissant.”

She shrugged. “That always helps me relax after a long day at work.”

“Okay. One milk and one croissant, please.”

“For here or to-go?”

Danny looked around the shop. It was practically empty, except for two college students in the corner, looking almost as bad as Danny, surrounded by books. And Gwen was twittering around, cleaning tables and trying to eavesdrop on the conversation between her best friend and the handsome doctor.

“Here is fine.”

Mindy quirked her head. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Mindy beamed. “’Kay.”

Danny turned around and wandered to a table. Mindy quickly poured him a glass of milk and heated a croissant. She brought it to him and watched his brow furrow in confusion as she took the seat across from his.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t die from exhaustion. It would be bad for business. Imagine the headline,” she paused, thinking. “Yup. I got nothing. It would be _so_ horrible, the papers wouldn’t even print a headline.”

“’Successful Doctor Dies Due to Exhaustion in Local Coffee Shop’?”

“God, Danny. That was so boring. No.”

“Don’t you have to be behind the counter? For other customers?”

“Gwen can handle it,” she waved it off. “Can’t you, Gwen?” 

Gwen nodded, trying to act as if she wasn’t listening into their conversation.

“See? We’re fine.”

He shrugs and sips his milk. It was kind of adorable.

“So,” Mindy starts, chastising herself. _He’s married. He’s married._ “Tell me about yourself.”

“Why?”

“I have to keep you awake. Most people like to talk about themselves. So, talk.”

“I’ve been awake for thirty-six plus hours. Why are you doing this to me?”

“Well, why did you come here? Why didn’t you go home?”

“I spent the last five hours thinking about your coffee, that’s why,” he said. Mindy ducked her head, praying to whatever deity that she was supposed to worship (a big elephant in the sky? Her parents didn’t really push the whole religion thing) that her blush wasn’t that obvious.

Danny cleared his throat. “Also, I didn’t want to disturb Christina.”

“Christina?”

“My wife.”

_Yup. There it is._

“Oh. Tell me about her,” Mindy said. Hopefully, Danny wouldn’t notice that her enthusiasm was mostly forced.

Danny shifted in his seat, his grip on his mug got tighter. “Uh. Um. Well, she’s a photographer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, um. She does mostly scenic stuff. You know, mountains, oceans. That kind of thing. _National Geographic_ has her on speed dial or something,” he let out a strained chuckle. “I keep telling her, um, that she should put that on her résumé.”

“She should. That’s really cool.”

“Eh, she doesn’t listen to me. It’s probably for the best. I’m a doctor. What do I know about art?” His gaze was down in his cup.

“I bet you know a lot of stuff, Danny.”

He looked at her then, his chocolate eyes peering at her behind long eyelashes. _God, his eyelashes were so long. Is that legal on dudes? It shouldn't be._

“Thanks.”

Silence.

Mindy bit her lip. “Did you always want to be a doctor?”

Danny smiled. “Nah. For awhile, I wanted to be a professional baseball player.”

“Oh, like Jeter.”

His smile met his eyes again. “Yeah. Like Jeter.”

“What happened?”

“Hmm?”

“Well, you’re obviously not playing for the Yankees.”

“Oh. Um. I was about nine, around that age, and I saw in a book that doctors make the most money a year, so. I liked helping people, too, and I wasn’t squeamish around blood or any of that, either, and I had this dream of buying my ma a house in France or someplace, so it kinda all fit.”

Mindy smiled, imagining little Danny, trying to be a doctor. “Your mom must be very proud.”

“Well,” Danny placed a hand on the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Yeah. Growing up it was just me, my brother Richie, and her, so, we’re pretty close.”

“Your dad…?”

His eyes got a little darker. It was the first time Mindy saw anything negative in him. “He, uh, left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright. It’s in the past, right?” His eyes suggested otherwise, but Mindy knew a touchy topic when she saw one and although she would usually plow through to get to the juicy stuff, she didn’t want to scare the guy off, as she was prone to do. “So, you and your dad. You were close?”

“Two peas in a pod,” she replied.

“I bet you were a total Daddy’s girl.”

“I was. I don’t know. I love my mom. She’s the best. But, my dad just got me, you know? We butted heads a lot, because we were so much alike, sure, but we understood each other. My dad actually got me my first _People_ subscription for my thirteenth birthday. My mom was so mad. She said, ‘Mindy doesn’t need her head filled with silly people’s problems when she has problems of her own. She’ll become a silly person herself and I will not have a silly daughter.’ Or something like that. Dad ignored her. He said that it was a good way to fit into America. Know all the celebrities’ names. Which I do.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re silly.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

He smiled and he checked his watch. “Oh, hell.” He looked up at her. “I really should go home. Get some sleep.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you!”

Danny smiled and got up, downing the last of his milk. He glanced at his untouched croissant. “Don’t worry about it,” Mindy assured him. “I’ll probably scarf it down real fast later when lunch rush gets too intense.”

She shook her head when he got out his wallet. “Don’t you dare.”

“You’re going to go out of business if you keep giving me free stuff.”

“You’ll pay me back. Somehow. Someday.”

“Oh, yeah. How?”

“I don’t know. Your firstborn?”

The doctor laughed— _he has a really good laugh_ —and headed for the door. “Thanks, Min. For everything.”

And then he was gone.

Mindy hid her smile with her hand and she turned back to the counter. He called her “Min”. No one had done that before.

_Min. I like it._

She saw Gwen giving her a knowing look.

“Oh, my God. Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HERE. I DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT YOU. I LOVE YOU. DON'T HATE ME.


	3. Chapter 3

Danny started to have his coffee in the shop more often after that. Sometimes, he had his lunch there—technically, there was a “no outside food” rule, but she would let this one slide—going over paperwork or reading the newspaper.

“Seriously, Danny? Who reads the newspaper anymore? Stop living in the 1940s and get an iPad, like a normal person.”

“I don’t trust anything that _claims_ to be smarter than me,” he replied, not looking up.

Mindy rolled her eyes and refilled his cup. “Those glasses look ridiculous.”

He looked at her then, peering at her through the red fashion monstrosity. “You find them adorable.”

 _I do. I do. I so do_. “Dream on, _Caste-lame-o_.”

His eyebrows shot up. “ _That’s_ a new one.”

Mindy ignored him, the newspaper catching her eye. “Oh, my God,” she gasped as she snatched a page from Danny’s grasp. She ignored his protests as she scanned the paper. “Oh, my _God_.”

“What? What is it?”

“They’re having a double showing of _When Harry Met Sally_ and _You’ve Got Mail_ on Saturday. I haven’t been able to go in like, two years. Gwen!” she called, Gwen’s head popping up from the counter. “Double showing, Saturday. You in?”

The blonde frowned. “I’m meeting Carl’s parents Saturday. I’ve been talking about it all week, Mindy.”

Mindy barely held in an eye roll. “Right. That.” She had half a mind to tell her that Meg Ryan will always take precedence over her old geezer of a boyfriend, but that would do more harm than good.

“Take Maggie.”

“Maggie always steals the popcorn,” she whined.

“I do not!” Maggie protested as she made a Frappuccino.

“Yes, you do. It’s like going to the movies with a child, one that failed the ‘sharing’ unit in Kindergarten.”

“You’re one to talk,” Maggie shot back.

Mindy shot her a pointed glare and turned back to the paper, looking at it mournfully. “Maybe next time,” she said with a dramatic sigh.

“You can’t go by yourself?” Danny asked.

“Oh, God, no. If you go to see _When Harry Met Sally_ and _You’ve Got Mail_ alone in a theater, it just screams desperation. Sure, you can watch them alone in your pajamas in the privacy of your own home, that’s fine, but in public? No. I might end up a cat lady, but I’m not going down without a fight. If Charles Manson has a chance, so do I.”

“Charles Manson is a murderer, locked up in a maximum security prison.”

“All the more reason not to give up hope then,” she said as she stares at the paper. “Goodbye, my loves.”

“Okay, alright. Enough. I’ll go with you.”

Mindy stared at him. “What?”

“I’ll go with you. We’ll get two popcorns.”

“A-as friends, right?”

Danny shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. Friends,” he laughed nervously. “Duh.”

“Okay!” Mindy said. “Oh, hey, you can bring Christina! I can finally meet her.”

He shook his head. “She’s in Minneapolis. Work trip.”

“Okay. Just you and me, then. Friends.”

“I…I have to go. Hospital. Work…stuff,” he stuttered as he rose, cleaning up his trash.

Mindy stood as well, placing a hand on his arm. “Danny, that’s my job.”

“Right. Right. I knew that. Just…trying to help I guess. Sorry. Um. So. Saturday.”

She nodded. “Six o’clock. Meet you there.”

Danny nodded. “Bye, Min,” he said as he kissed her cheek. Mindy saw his eyes widen when he pulled back, a hastily mumbled, “Sorry, Italian thing,” before he left the shop.

 

\--

 

Saturday came ridiculously fast. Mindy spent most of the morning pacing in her apartment, Maggie and a few other baristas taking care of the shop downstairs.

 _This is totally normal. Just two platonic friends, going to the movies together. No harm in that. No harm at all. We’re friends, nothing more. Except, men and women_ can’t _be friends._

“Fuck off, Nora,” she said out loud.

 _I can do this. I am Beyoncé Pad Tai and I can do this_.

 

\--

 

Danny was waiting in front of the theater when she got there. As she approached him, he checked his watch. “Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re on time.”

“I’m always on time,” she said, offended. Danny gave her a look. “It’s Nora,” she shrugged. “I’m always on time for Nora.”

“Nora?”

“Nora Ephron. These are her movies. You don’t know who Nora Ephron is? One of the greatest writers of our time?” Danny just stood there. “How does your wife do it?”

“Do what?”

“Go to the movies with you. You’re like one of those old people who thinks it’s still 1967, or something.”

“I wasn’t even alive in ’67, Mindy.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it, Doc,” she said as they stopped by the box office. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment.

They were waiting in line at the concessions stand when he speaks up. “She doesn’t.”

“Hmm?”

“Christina. She doesn’t go to the movies with me. We don’t…we don’t go out, much. We’re both too busy with work and stuff. She’s almost never home, ever since her photography kinda took off. And me, I’m always at the hospital anyway, so it’s not much different, once you think about it.”

“Does it make you sad, that you don’t see her as much as you want?”

He shrugs noncommittally. “It’s not ideal, but I’m used to it.”

Mindy didn’t know what to say, and she was thankful when the cashier called for the next person in line.

 

\--

 

Going to the movies with Danny was surprisingly okay.

He had his own popcorn, so he didn’t steal any of hers. He did, however, give her a weird look when she mixed her Sour Patch Kids with the popcorn. (What? You get everything with that combo. Salty, sweet, sour, crunchy, fruity, chewy. Everything.) He didn’t shush her when she started quoting the dialogue line for line. He didn’t make rude, off-hand comments as Billy Crystal ran through the street on New Year’s Eve, even though she _knew_ he wanted to. And he didn’t comment on the fact that she was crying like a baby when Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan were in the garden. He just gave her hand a quick squeeze before pulling back.

Mindy felt tingles on her hand for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few things:
> 
> 1.) Sour Patch Kids and popcorn go really well together. I highly recommend it. 10/10, Heaven on Earth.  
> 2.) Right now, it seems really OOC, but I think it's just this chapter. It'll get better.  
> 3.) On that note, this is just a filler chapter, sort of. It will definitely pick up in the next few chapters.
> 
> OH. AND.
> 
> 4.) The fact that Charles Manson is fucking engaged and I've been awkwardly single for the past twenty years, without murdering a soul, proves that the universe is fucked up, bro.


	4. Chapter 4

Danny and Mindy became closer after the movie date—thing. It was _not_ a date.

Mindy had a hard time with that. Usually, when she was close to a guy, they were close in the intimate sense, too. But, with Danny, that wasn’t even an option. Had the thought crossed her mind? Yes, of course. Danny was an attractive guy (so attractive. Jesus). So, yes. She _had_ thought about it. Was she going to do anything about it? No. Mindy Lahiri was a lot of things, but a homewrecker she was not.

Her resolve on the subject of not falling for Dr. Daniel Castellano did not make it easier. His eyes always looked at her with warmth, his smile always making her day a bit better.

“You’ve got it bad, babe,” Gwen said one night after they closed up shop. Maggie nodded in agreement, taking another shot of Fireball.

They were in her living room. It was Friday night and after another hard week, Mindy desperately needed a girls’ night in. It was a miracle that she convinced Gwen to be away from Carl for the night and she was not going to waste a moment of much overdue best friend time.

“He’s _married_ , Mindy.”

“ _Fucking married_ ,” Maggie slurred.

“Okay, alright. That’s enough of the Happy Juice for you,” Mindy said as she took the bottle away from Maggie. “And, I know. I know. I’m fully aware of Danny’s…relationship status. _I know_.”

“Then, why are you doing this to yourself?”

“What?”

“Why do you keep hanging out with him?”

“We’re friends. Friends hang out,” she scoffed, motioning around the room.

“I see the way you look at him, Mindy,” Gwen commented, her voice laced with pity.

“Look, _I know_. God, I know. Can we just…not talk about it?” She took a swig of Fireball, the liquid burning down her throat. “God.”

“His wife—”

“Never met her. Every time I bring her up, Danny gets all grumpy. It’s irritating and adorable at the same time,” another swig. “It’s just me. Danny’s a good guy. God, he’s so Catholic, he practically _is_ the Pope. He would only ever think about his wife. At least, in that way.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Maggie blurted, earning a glare from both Gwen and Mindy. “The dude’s eyes are always on her, even when I’m serving him. And I’m fucking hot.”

Mindy rolled her eyes, getting up to pour a glass of water. She padded back to her friends, pushing the glass in front of Maggie. “Drink this, you lush.”

She bit her lip, thinking back to Danny. Every time she looked up at him, his eyes were on her. It was unnerving at first, but as they got closer, it became more of a comforting thing.

“No. No, no, no. Do _not_ start thinking that way, Mindy,” Gwen said, reading her friend’s mind, as she often did. “It will only lead to—”

“A dark, dark road of pain and heartbreak. God, I’m such a masochist. I’m like Natalie Portman in _Black Swan_.”

“You just need to get laid,” Maggie said.

“Oh, my God, yes,” Gwen clapped. “I know _plenty_ of Carl’s friends who would love to take you out. And who knows? One of them might be The One.”

“Oh, God, no. Please don’t set me up with any of his friends.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not old enough to go out with geezers, Gwen.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Mindy, you have to try.”

Mindy nodded and took another swig of the amber liquid.

_I know._

 

\--

 

And she did. She tried to be out of sight when Danny came into the shop, but his eyes always found her. She shot a glance over to Gwen, who nodded and headed over to Danny.

Danny shot her a quizzical glance and she sent what she hoped would translate as “it is what it is”.

 

\--

 

And so it went. For a week and a half, Mindy did her best to limit her time with Danny. She didn’t _avoid_ him, necessarily, but she does make it a point not to be around him as much. 

 _This is good,_ she would tell herself. She had no clue what exactly she was feeling for Danny Castellano, but she knew she should _not_ be feeling it for a married man.

It was the most miserable week and a half of her life.

She missed Danny. She missed him as a friend, as a person. It was kind of odd to her that she had met her match in such an opposite. He was a curmudgeonly, old, party pooper and she was a young, hip waitress, just waiting for Michael Fassbender to come into her shop and sweep her off her feet.

And Danny…he didn’t understand her at all. He didn’t understand her unhealthy obsession with the Kardashians (“I’m not exactly proud of it, Danny, but God, their drama is addicting.”), he didn’t understand her need to have an outfit change in the middle of the day (“it takes a lot of effort to look this fabulous all the time, Doc. It’s not like a have a guy named Sal, or something, to do it for me,”), he didn’t understand her constant twitter-stalking of Taylor Swift and her coffee habits (“Imagine if she walked in here. Imagine it.”) He didn’t understand her at all.

And yet, he understood her perfectly.

 

\--

 

Mindy was miserable. It was raining, the cappuccino machine broke (again) and she hadn’t seen Danny in three days.

It was a Tuesday night—around eleven. She was in her pajamas, drinking her second glass of wine for the night, zoning out to a Ken Burns film.

She heard a sharp knock on the door downstairs. She heard it again. And then, came the banging.

“What the fuck?” she said to herself.

Who would be here at night? She knew she flipped the sign so it said “closed”, and even if she didn’t the darkness inside the shop would give any idiot a fucking clue.

When the banging didn’t stop, she grabbed her baseball bat and padded down the stairs. Once she saw who was at the door, she rushed over to unlock it.

She opened the door and standing in front of her, soaking wet, with sad puppy dog eyes, was Danny fucking Castellano.

“Oh, God.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another filler chapter. AH. I know. But, good news! I now know where I'm going with this thing. I was a little lost for awhile, but I seem to have figured it out. Hopefully. You never know with me.
> 
> I know some people were a little uneasy about Danny and Mindy's relationship, but it'll all be okay in the end. (And if it's not...then, it's not the end. Aha!)
> 
> The next chapter should be up quicker. I just finished school, so I have like, a month and a half of time. (Cue Hallelujah chorus.)
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to mindycray17.


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, God.”

There he was. Sopping wet, breathing heavy, and in a suit.

“Danny…” she trailed off, looking at him.

“Hi, Min,” he said with a sort of self-deprecating smile. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

Mindy pursed her lips. “Come on.”

She opened the door wider and he stepped in the shop and they headed up to her apartment. Once he realized he was tracking in mud, he stopped. “Oh, Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just get up early tomorrow.”

He looked guiltier than ever at that. “I—”

“Danny, stop. Just…let’s get upstairs and…yeah. Okay?” She started up the stairs, not bothering to look behind her. After a moment, she heard his footsteps following her up the stairs.

She sighed as she opened the door to her apartment. Usually, when a new person entered her apartment, she had a spiel, but now was not the time. She entered and Danny quickly followed. Before he had much time to look around, she pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

“Bathroom’s too your left. You’re welcome to use the shower to warm up. And you can use anything you need, as long as you don’t mind smelling like lavender tomorrow. Um. There’s a laundry basket in there, so you can just throw your wet clothes in there. I’m going to get you some clean clothes. I’m sure I have some sweatpants and a t-shirt that Tom left.”

“Tom?”

“Ex. Anyway. Um. Let me get that for you. The clothes, I mean.” She turned on her heel and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“ _Shit_ ,” she choked out, pressing her palms to her eyes. “Okay, okay,” she breathed, calming herself. “This is fine. You are fine.”

She went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from the bottom drawer. She had to dig for them; both articles of clothing were at the bottom of the pile.

She steeled herself and headed back to her living room, where Danny was still standing. Mindy handed him the clothes and he nodded.

“Thanks, Mindy. Look, I know this all is—”

“I’ll be waiting on the couch,” she cut him off. “Yell if you need anything.” He nods again and heads to the bathroom. As he turns to close the door, he looks at her.

“Mindy.”

She looks at him then, really looks at him. He really looks like a mess. A huge, fucking mess. She feels her resolve melt and she sighs. “I know, Danny. I know.”

He smiles softly and shuts the door.

 

\--

 

Ten minutes later, Danny Castellano came out of her bathroom, dressed in her ex-boyfriend’s ratty t-shirt and sweatpants. And damn her if it didn’t make her heart stutter.

He quietly sat next to her on the couch and she put away her book down. Mindy bit her lip, studying him. His hair was semi-dry, sticking up in different directions (the fact that he kept carding his hands through it wasn’t helping). His eyes were sad and tired. And his hands, his hands were shaking. They never shook.

_This is not good._

Mindy took a deep breath. “Do you…do you want to talk about it?”

“Christina left me,” he whispered, not looking at her.

“Fuck,” Mindy muttered. Danny chuckled bitterly.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Actually…I caught her in bed with someone.”

Mindy’s mouth went dry.

“Danny, you don’t have to—”

“No, no, I want to,” he assured her. “Isn’t it healthy to talk about these things? Besides, who else am I gonna talk to about this? My ma? No way.” He turned to her then. “Min, you’re my best friend. My only friend. I wanna talk to you about this.”

“Okay, Danny. Okay.”

And so Danny told her. He told her about him coming home to find the apartment a mess and when he called her name, Christina came out of the bedroom in only a sheet, her eyes wide. He told her about how Christina begged him not to go into the bedroom, but he did anyway, and how he saw Todd from a few doors over jumping through the window and down the fire escape.

He told her about trying to go after the dickhead, but Christina stopped him. He yelled, she yelled. She demanded a divorce and he said “fine!” and stomped out the door.

“She called me heartless,” Danny said, once he was done.

"Heartless?"

“Yeah," he sighed. "A cardiologist without a heart. How ironic.” He leaned forward, his head in his hands. “Jesus Christ. Jesus… _fucking_ Christ.”

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Danny,” she said, trying her best to comfort him.

“Thanks, Min,” he murmured. He cleared his throat. “I guess…I guess this is it, then.”

“What? You’re not going to fight for her? You’re Catholic, Danny. You don’t even trust this new Pope. Isn’t divorce like, the sin of all sins?”

“What? No.”

“You love her right? Of course you do. You love her, you fight for her.”

“Min—”

“I just can’t understand why you’re giving up so quickly on this, Danny. If you love her—”

“I don’t love her, Mindy.”

She gaped at him. “What?”

“I don’t love her, Mindy. I think I haven’t loved her in a long time.”

He turned to her fully then. He was looking at her with those dark, soothing eyes and she felt like she was melting. She loved him. She had known it for weeks. It was agony. And now he was telling her that he didn’t love his wife and…and….

“Oh, God,” she muttered as she rose from the couch, desperate to get away from him, desperate for _air_. “Oh, God.”

“Min?” he asked, concerned. She shook her head violently and headed for her kitchen. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Once she had collected herself, she did what any respectable, totally-twenty-something woman would do.

She started looking for the alcohol.

“Mindy, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, waving him off as she found the handle of vodka and pulled it out of her cabinet. She unscrewed the top and took a swig.

“Mindy!” Danny yelped as he rushed over to her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. It’s just…” she tilted the bottle down her lips again, causing Danny’s frown to cement itself deeper on his face. “Have you ever seen _Sense and Sensibility_? The movie with Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet and Hugh Grant?”

“No….”

“Of course not,” she sighed and took another drink. “Well, there’s this scene in the movie when Hugh comes to visit Emma and Emma finds out that Hugh is single and not married, like she thought, and she kind of has like, a breakdown, sort of, because like, she loves him and she can’t…she can’t process it and that’s what I’m going through right now.”

 _Fuck it_ , she thought, and she moved the bottle to her lips again, wanting to just down the whole thing and have done with it, before Danny’s hand covered her own.

She looked up at him and his fucking beautiful eyes. The eyes that haunted her dreams. The eyes that were always just _there_. They were honest and good and—

“…love me?” Danny’s voice came back into focus.

“What?”

“Mindy…do you love me?” the desperation in his voice was so clear and obvious and her heart nearly shattered in two.

_Yes. Yes. With all my heart, yes._

“Danny,” she whispered, her own voice breaking. “Please, don’t make me answer that.”

He took the bottle out of her hands and placed it on the counter. He then cupped his hands around her face, bringing her closer. Mindy tried to focus on anything but how warm his hands felt on her cheeks, how soft and gentle they were against her skin, and how his thumbs caressed her tenderly.

“Mindy, do you love me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love myself. MUHAHAHA.


	6. Chapter 6

Mindy sat on her couch, glass of wine in her hand, staring at the black screen of her television.

She stopped crying thirty minutes ago, but she soon discovered she was prone to episodes of sobbing. She knew that if she called Gwen or Maggie and explained the situation, they would be here in a heartbeat, but she just wanted to be alone. Just for a while. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, she had no idea.

 

\--

 

_“Mindy, do you love me?”_

_Mindy grasped Danny’s hands, pulling them gently off her cheeks, but he quickly enclosed her hands around his fingers. She met his gaze and sighed, her breath stuttering._

_She bit her lip. His eyes were filled with emotion. She contemplated lying to him, turning him down, rejecting him. But, she knew if she did that, he would know she was lying. Danny always knew._

_“Just answer me, Mindy. Please.”_

_Mindy felt tears prick behind her eyes. Mindy gently removed her hands from his grasp. Danny reached for her again, but she backed away._

_Mindy shook her head. “No.”_

_“No,” Danny repeated, looking like he just got sucker punched._

_“Danny, I can’t.”_

_“Can’t, what? Can’t love me? You…you don’t love me?”_

_Mindy shakes her head. “Danny…it doesn’t matter.”_

_“What the hell are you talking about? Of course it matters.”_

_“No, it doesn’t.”_

_“Yes, it does!”_

_“No, it doesn’t! It doesn’t matter that I love you or not because we’ll never be like that. It doesn’t matter that my day is better when I see you and miserable when I don’t. It doesn’t matter that I can’t stop thinking about you because you’re not mine. Okay? So, no. It doesn’t matter. I have to stop living in a fantasy world and start living in the real one. The one where you’re married and I’m…”_

_“You’re what?”_

In love with you. _The words were on the tip of her tongue. That would be so easy, to finally say the words that have been torturing her for weeks._

_“I’m just the girl you flirt with on your lunch hour.”_

_It was harsh and cold, but she was through with getting hurt. She was done with being in relationships that will only end in her getting burned._

_Danny’s mouth formed a hard line. “You and I both know that’s not true.”_

_Mindy laughed bitterly._ Knew it.

_“Damn it, Mindy,” he muttered. Silence followed._

_It killed her._

_“I love you.”_

_His voice came out as a whisper, barely audible, but she heard it._

_Danny was suddenly near her again and she felt pulled toward him._

_“Mindy,” he said softly, his breath fanning over her face. “Just tell me. Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me you don’t and…and I won’t…you won’t…. I just need to hear it.”_

_Mindy looked at Danny, his brown, beautiful eyes pleading with hers. Her hands found themselves on his chest and she knew what she had to do._

_“I love you, Danny. I love you.” She gave him a sad smile._

_He sighed and stroked her cheek with his hand, his thumb lingering on her jawline before dropping down to his side. “Why does it sound like you just told me you were dying?”_

_The tears that she was fighting against won then, and they rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Danny. I can’t.”_

_“Why not? Why can’t we make this work? Why can’t we try?”_

_“Danny, you just left your wife. Like, just left her. Right now, your life is a mess, and I feel like I have a right to say that because my life’s been a mess for like, years. You’re going through something that will be hard and rough and you need to learn what it’s like to be on your own for a while. You need to figure out what you want.”_

_“Mindy, I love you. I want to be with you. Isn’t that enough?”_

_“No,” she said truthfully. “It’s not.”_

 

\--

 

Danny left soon after that and Mindy found herself getting reacquainted with all the wine in her apartment, having put the vodka away. This was not a vodka problem. This was a three-bottles-of-red problem. If she was going to cry all night on her couch, she might as well look like Olivia Pope while doing so.

Mindy stared off, wondering how in the world she fell for him in the first place. Danny wasn’t anything like her. He was grumpy, partial to frowning, and he didn’t have a clue who Taylor Swift was.

But, underneath it all, she knew that Danny Castellano had a big heart. And she saw it, right away.

Mindy also knew that Danny Castellano was the best man she had ever loved and she had pushed him away. (For all the right reasons, but the pain was still there. And it hurt like a bitch.)

“Fuck,” she muttered to the empty room, her voice hoarse and tired from the crying.

She placed the wine glass on the coffee table and trudged to her bedroom. Exhausted, she collapsed on her bed, quickly letting sleep overtake her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super short. I'm sorry (this week has been crazy hectic, with unplanned hospital visits and stuff because life hates me), but I ended it at a good stopping point, I think, so I'm not that bothered.
> 
> ALSO--next chapter is the last one. So. That's happening.


	7. Chapter 7

Mindy hadn’t seen Danny in three months. She hadn’t really expected to, with how they left things, but it still hurt.

She stopped looking at the door every time the bell rang about two weeks in. She knew a lost cause when she saw one. She hated it.

Another thing Mindy hated was the look Gwen and Maggie sent her every time they would see her drift off into “Danny Land”, as Maggie so aptly named it months ago. The look was fully of pity and pseudo-understanding (they had never been in love with a married man before? No. Mindy’s pretty sure Maggie had slept with one of her professors, but that was never confirmed, and besides, that was a whole different situation, entirely). She hated the looks.

She hated the fact that she felt the urge to call him after something funny or good happened to her during her day. She hated that she would go through their text conversations, months after the fact. (In her defense, Danny’s discovery of emojis was hilarious.)

Mindy just wanted to talk to him. That’s all she wanted.

Gwen did set her up with one of Carl’s friends. Dennis was a nice guy, but she didn’t feel anything. She didn’t feel the Spark.

“You’re getting too old to be looking for ‘the Spark’,” Gwen told her, not unkindly. “You need to start thinking…logically.”

 _Love isn’t logical,_ she wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut and nodded. Gwen was just looking out for her, she knew that. It just hurt.

She hated that it hurt.

 

\--

 

Rishi came to visit, which was like a godsend. Her brother had a way of making her forget her troubles (mostly because he had her worry about _his_ , but that’s beside the point).

“Yo, sis!” Rishi yelled at her, scrounging through the fridge. “Do you have any of that fancy mustard? I need it for my sammy.”

“’Sammy’? C’mon, Rish, I’m slaving away at the shop to help you get a first-rate college education and you can’t even be bothered to use actual words.”

“You know you ain’t paying a damn thing. Full ride, baby!”

Mindy rolled her eyes and handed him the Dijon. “Yeah, well, just putt that obscenely-priced education to use, alright?"

“Yeah, alright,” her brother muttered, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. He kissed her on the cheek and she pushed him away.

They settled on the couch, falling into old routines. Mindy was flipping through channels, while her brother’s eyes were glued to his phone. He glanced up at his sister.

“You look miserable, by the way.”

“Jesus, Rish. Way to make a girl feel good about herself.”

“Who is he?”

“Ex-squeeze me?”

“Who’s the guy? There’s obviously a guy. You haven’t mentioned your love life _at all_ , and I’ve been here for more than thirty minutes. There’s a guy.”

“Rishi….”

“Tell me!”

“It’s nothing.”

“So, it’s something,” Rishi shot back, eyebrows raised. Mindy shook her head, turning back to the TV. Rishi, however, didn’t let it go.

“C’mon sis. Tell me,” he whined. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

“Rishi, drop it,” she demanded.

Rishi’s eyes darkened. “Who is he and what do I have to do to him? Do I have to cut a bitch?”

“What? Jesus, Rishi. No. God.” Mindy slapped him on the arm. “Who do you know that can ‘cut a bitch’, anyway? You go to Stanford. You’re with a bunch of nerds. Nerds who can barely talk to a girl, much less ‘cut a bitch’.”

“My friend, Howard, has a cousin, just got out for assault and battery, lives in Brooklyn, owes him a favor, and Howard owes me a favor.”

“Oh, my God,” Mindy gaped at him. “Rishi, are you hanging out with…with criminals?!”

“What? No. Howard and I met at orientation and we both bonded from being the only ones there from the Hood—”

“You are not from ‘the Hood’, alright? Cool it, Three Pack.”

“It’s—it’s Tupac….”

“What?”

“Never mind. Look, chill. Howard’s straight as an arrow. Dude won’t even go above the speed limit.”

“Yeah? And why does he owe you a favor?”

“I helped him score,” her brother said casually, as if he was just commenting on the weather.

“Oh, God, Rish. Haven’t I taught you to respect women, you asshole?”

Rishi held up his hands in surrender. “Dude desperately needed it. He had no game. It was sad. Like, _I was embarrassed for him_ sad.” When he saw the unamused look on her face, he laughed. “Relax, sis. All I did was help him with asking the girl out to dinner. It was all very on the up-and-up.”

“God, lead with that next time, asshole.”

“You gonna tell me about the dude?”

“No. And there’s no need to call Howard’s cousin, or whatever. I was the one who…ended it.”

“And now you’re miserable.”

“It’s complicated.”

He scoffed. “What? He married or something?” Mindy was silent and Rishi’s eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

“It’s not—”

“Mindy, you were shacking up with some married guy?!”

“No! God, no! It wasn’t like that,” she insisted. “At all.” Rishi’s raised his eyebrows—not accusingly, just curious.

So, she told him. She told him about Danny. She told him about the coffee breaks and the early mornings. She told him about the movies and the conversations about nothing. She told him about the fact that Danny was the one person that that made her feel completely at ease.

And she told him about that night, the night that ruined everything, about his confession and her confession, and her subsequent rejection.

“…and I haven’t seen him since.”

“Fuck.”

“Right?”

Silence followed and Mindy’s hands were itching for a wine glass. Telling Rishi was kind of like reliving the whole thing and she was not prepared for it.

“So, you’re in love.”

Mindy closed her eyes and let out a long, semi-overdramatic sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“And he loves you back.”

She bit her lip. She was trying to forget that part. It made it harder. She would just lay awake and wonder if he was just as wrecked as she was over this…this nothing between them.

If she thought about the “I love you”, she would think about his face falling, about the pain in her chest, about the overwhelming temptation to take it all back and just let him hold her.

Her mind would wonder, if he left her apartment and went to a bar and if he found a girl at said bar and took her home for the night.

Maybe, he woke up next to the woman, the woman who wasn’t her, and he invited her out to breakfast and they hit it off and now they’re happy together, while she’s still spending every night watching _The Price is Right_ reruns and staring at her phone, having the endless debate with herself to call him or not.

Maybe it was too late.

Mindy sat back down. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore. I broke his heart. He won't forgive me after that."  _I don't blame him_.

Silence. But, only for a moment.

“Vodka or vodka?” Rishi asked.

 

\--

 

Rishi didn’t mention Danny again and steered clear of any topic that might lead to him. Mindy was grateful to have him here, even if it was just for a week.

“I can’t believe you chose to spend your Spring Break with your cool, hip, older sister,” she said as she watched him wipe off the counter.

He huffed. “If I knew I was going to be subjected to this kind of unpaid labor, I would’ve totally hopped on the bus to Cabo.”

“Lair,” she said with a smile and gave him a peck on the cheek, which Rishi scrubbed away with his hand dramatically.

 

\--

 

They were in the ER. Because Rishi was a fucking idiot when it came to cooking dinner.

Sure, it was sweet that he wanted to cook her a meal on their last night together, and she had always wanted a man to cook for her ( _don’t think about Danny, don’t think about Danny_ ), preferably not her brother, but she was going to take what she could get. However, if she had known that it would cause this much trouble, she would’ve just ordered Chinese.

Mindy sat across from Rishi, who was getting his arm stitched and his head looked at. He had a dopey grin on his face, although she didn’t know if it was because of the painkillers or the nurse/doctor/person/lady who was patching him up.

The door opened suddenly and her heart nearly stopped.

There, in his scrubs and doctor’s coat, was Danny fucking Castellano.

And he was…panting?

“Danny?”

“Mindy,” Danny gasped, still out of breath, but obviously trying to pull of casual, “hey.”

“Hey…” Mindy trailed off, not certain of what was happening. “What’s up?”

_“What’s up”? You haven’t seen the guy in months and you open with “what’s up”? Good one, Lahiri. Real good._

“I, um,” Danny motioned behind him, “I saw your name on the board and, um, I…” he looked down, getting red.

Mindy realized what he was getting at, that he thought that she got hurt, that it was going to be her on the bed and not Rishi.

“Oh. Oh, no,” she looked at her brother; he wasn’t paying her any mind. “It’s my brother. He, um, he was trying to make dinner.”

“Oh, okay. Do you…do you want me to take a look at it?”

“Aren’t you a cardiologist?”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t know what I’m doing, Min.”

She sucked in a breath at the nickname. Danny must have seen her reaction—which was probably less than stellar—because his face fell.

God, this was so hard.

“Do you want to talk outside?” she asked. They would have to do this sometime, might as well get it over with. Danny spared Rishi a glance. “He’s fine. He’ll be fine.”

“It looks pretty bad.”

“Yeah, well, I promised I would throw him the ‘dopest death party ever’, should he die tragically, so it’s all good.”  
  
Danny gave her a small smile. “Alright, c’mon.”

He led her out the door and pulled her into a nook in between walls nearby.

 _Don’t make a_ Grey’s Anatomy _joke. Don’t make a_ Grey’s Anatomy _joke._

“Hi,” his voice brought her from her thoughts.

“Hi.”

“Um,” Danny started again, a layer of sweat began to form on his forehead. “How have you been?”

“Good. The shop’s been doing really well, so I’ve been really busy lately.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah. Starbucks ain’t got shit on us.”

Danny smiled again and Mindy had to remind herself to lock her knees.

“So, Doc. How’re you?”

“Good, good. You know, doing doctor stuff.”

“Like saving lives?”

He blushed. “And not really having one, yeah,” he chuckled nervously.

“What? You’re not using your Adonis-esque good looks and frankly amazing dance moves to bird dog chicks every weekend?”

Why did she say that? Why was her mouth sabotaging her? Why? _Why?_

“Mindy—”

“I mean, I know Ken Burns doesn’t really appreciate your physique, Doc, as heartbreaking as that might be to hear.”

_Stop, Mindy. Just wire your mouth shut._

“Mindy,” Danny repeated, the sweat on his forehead dripping down to his temples.

_Oh, God. He’s going to tell me that he’s dating someone. Someone great and funny and skinnier than me, with better hair. Oh, God. Oh, God._

“You know, I should really go back to check on Rishi. He might need me.” As she turned away from him, his hand reached out and grabbed hers.

“Please.”

Mindy steeled herself before turning to face him, meeting his gaze.

Danny just stared at her. She didn’t know what was going on in his mind and it was killing her. The silence was killing her. This whole fucking situation was killing her. She realized then that this had to stop, for both their sakes.

“Danny—”

“You have bewitched me body and soul and I love you.”

Mindy froze, completely in shock. Of all the ways she thought this could have played out, she never imagined—

“Did you just quote _Mr. Darcy_?”

“…yes.”

“Holy shit.”

Danny looked at her sheepishly. “That night you…you mentioned _Sense and Sensibility_. I got curious.”

“ _Pride and Prejudice_ isn’t _Sense and Sensibility_.”

He shrugged. “I liked it. It was comforting. Like I still had…a connection to you, somehow.” Mindy flushed, but said nothing, and Danny took the opportunity to continue. “I just…I just miss you. I miss you, Min. Like, as a friend. You’re my best friend. Kind of my only friend.” Mindy laughed. “And…and these last few months? Torture. Complete and utter torture. I feel like a part of me is missing. I haven’t heard you rant about the Kardashians and I have to read about Selena Beaver’s drama on my own because you haven’t been bombarding me with semi-regular updates every hour, on the hour.

“My life has been empty without you, Mindy. And it hurts. I just need it to stop hurting, okay?”

“Danny….”

“And I understand that I needed time. I did. I needed time to figure out how to be alone.”

“How’s that going?”

“It’s…it’s really fucking weird, Mindy. I haven’t lived alone. Ever. Christina and I met in college and we got married right when we finished undergrad. Living alone is new territory. Hell, _being_ alone is new territory. Even when Christina and I were going through the worst, the last few months, I had you.”

Mindy’s breath hitched. _Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God._

“And…and…yeah. That’s all I got. That’s my speech.” Danny smiled softly. “How did I do?”

“Pretty damn good, Castellano,” she laughed.

“Better than Billy Crystal?”

“So much better than Billy.”

His smile grew. “Mindy, I—”

“Excuse me, Ms. Lahiri?” Mindy turned to the woman who had been treating Rishi. “Your brother’s going to be fine. His arm is stitched up; the cut was deep, but not serious. It doesn’t seem like he has a concussion, but you might want to wake him up every couple hours to make sure.”

“Okay, thank you so much.”

“Also, we gave him a little something to help with the pain. 

“Okay, great. Hey, do you think I can get in on that action? I hear morphine can get you _pretty_ high.”

The nurse looked scandalized until Danny jumped in. “She’s joking. You’re joking, right?” he asked, turning to her expectantly.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I would never, um, yeah, no.”

The nurse nodded, clearly unconvinced. “Your brother is asking for you, something about eating in China?”

“Oh, God. Alright. Thank you, again, so much.” The nurse pursed her lips in response, and gave Danny a quick, almost-unnoticeable once-over—which Mindy did _not_ appreciate, thank you very much—and left.

She sighed. “Well, duty calls.”

Danny hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I guess I’ll—”

His pager beeped, cutting him off. He looked at it and sighed, giving Mindy a pained expression. “Damn it.”

Mindy smiled. “Go do your job, Doc. I gotta make sure my idiot brother stays alive.”

Danny beamed. God, it was nice to see that again. Suddenly his lips brushed over hers lightly. “Later, Min.” And then, he was running down the hallway.

As Mindy was making her way back to her brother, her hand on was on her cheek and she was smiling like an idiot, the tingly sensation still on her lips.

Danny didn’t hate her. Danny missed her, just as badly as she missed him. Holy hell, he quoted _Pride and_ fucking _Prejudice_ to her. That was like, amazing. Thirteen-year-old Mindy would have swooned. Hell, hot, _totally_ -twenty-something Mindy _was_ swooning.

Everything was looking better from where she stood.

 

\--

 

Mindy Lahiri didn’t want much in life. Sure, it would be nice if everyone knew her name and she had a shit ton of money and Michael Fassbender had her on speed-dial for a late night drink/booty call. But, she didn’t _need_ that. 

She wanted to make enough money to live comfortably and still keep the shop open.

She wanted Taylor Swift to find long, lasting love, but she also knew that Tay could take care of herself.

She wanted other things, too, but she learned very early on that it was best not to push it on certain things.

 

\--

 

She didn’t look up when the bell dinged for the first time that morning, she was too busy trying to scraped caramel off the counter. _Damn kids._ “What can I get you?”

“Coffee, regular.”

She stopped, looked up, and smiled.

 

\--

 

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT. I FINISHED THIS MOTHERFUCKER.
> 
> Sorry. Um. Just had to get that out.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this and commenting and nagging me for more. It's been a true pleasure. It really has. This has been my most popular work so far, seeing as I actually got like, notes and asks, begging for updates. (You guys are so awesome! Seriously! Keep being awesome!)
> 
> I know it took a hella long time to update this thing, but I just had to get it perfect and I had to do y'all justice and it took me awhile, but hopefully, this is what y'all deserve.
> 
> I love you all. Seriously. You guys are the reason I do what I do.
> 
> -Nicole
> 
> PS. About he Darcy thing: I WANT A GUY TO QUOTE ROMANTIC JANE AUSTEN TO ME ONE DAY AND IT'S MY STORY AND I LOVE IT, OKAY? OKAY.


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